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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26533897">Feel like me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbuck09256/pseuds/Starbuck09256'>Starbuck09256</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The X-Files</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:02:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,856</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26533897</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbuck09256/pseuds/Starbuck09256</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After Scully comes back from her abduction how does she deal with the missing months of her life? How has Mulder been dealing with her being back and yet far away?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Fox Mulder/Dana Scully</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Feel like me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>6 weeks of mandatory medical leave, as if the three months I was missing wasn’t punishment enough. The first 2 weeks at home, I could barely get my arms and legs to move, the muscular atrophy invidictive of a lack of movement, but no bed sores, no other signs of trauma. I try not to think about it, try to move forward and not question or dwell on the fact that months of my life will most liking forever remain a mystery. I push myself further than I should especially given the fact that so much of what was done is still unknown. My lack of ovulation, the extreme branches of compounds in my blood, the science is staring me in the face and I can’t seem to see any of the answers. I see questions, questions that disturb my dreams and haunt my days. I try to run again try to let the wind and the pavement take away the relentless questions that plague my mind. I lace up my shoes grab my keys, hope and pray that I can move past this. I close my door walk down the steps to my building, the steps that 2 weeks ago Mulder and my mother carried me up upon my insistence. I look at them in destain, I see myself as weak and not the fierce warrior that beat out half the men in my fbi academy class. I no longer feel like the woman who didn’t need to command respect because my demeanor and strength was projected on its own. Now I only feel weak and guarded, I see pity in my mother and sister. Even Mulder, whom my mother said was broken by my absence has stayed away. I miss him, and at the same time I don’t. I don’t want to have anyone here to pick up the pieces of a life that was shattered by a mentally deranged psychopath. I don’t need Melissa telling me that hypnosis and therapy and crystals are the solution to knowing that you were subjected to god knows what without your consent. I don’t want Mulders guilt and pity to overshadow the strong relationship we had and yet. As I try to run down the block, my lungs start to seize my muscles cramp up and I fall to the cold hard pavement in tears. The desperation I feel for the life I had is as broken. My soul aches for a chance to go back in time and change the past. To go back before Duane Barry, to go to Mulders after I foolishly scanned that trinket at the grocery store. My crumbled body is cold and wet, as the rain soaks into my skin and clothes. My shoelaces jumbled as I try to tie them my hands shake from the nervous breakdown and shock I’m going through, I see a man in the distance running towards me, my anger flares up and all I feel is hatred, hatred that its not me running down the block to the store. Hatred that I have no idea when my last menstrual cycle was. Hatred that I have overdue bills, library fines, and a job that I can’t set foot back at for 4 more weeks while I suffer in an apartment that makes me scream in my head every single second I’m in it. The man running to me is none other than Mulder. I can tell he is screaming my name but I can’t hear anything over my sobs and the heavy rain hitting the pavement. I don’t want his comfort or pity but damn if I don’t need his help. I feel weak and vulnerable like I did on our first case, and I’m soaked to the bone as he lifts me up into his arms. He carries me up to my apartment his long jacket and white dress shirt are soaked through. He gets to the door shifting me slightly to find his spare key, a spare key that my mother gave him when I was missing. Another moment stolen, my privacy vanished. Not that Mulder went through my things, but he certainly slept on the couch a few times. He cleaned my apartment for me when I was in the hospital. Said it was one of the only times he felt useful, he’s lousy at dusting. But even with the rain his musk invades my senses as he carries me to the couch. He sheds his coat pull his ugly tie off and is shirtless in minutes, I gasp at his lean body. I’ve seen him shirtless numerous times before, but apparently not having a partner that constantly questions you leaves you more time at the gym. He starts to tug off my shirt and shoes and pants. I’m shivering in my sports bra and thin underwear. He takes a mere second to wrap me up in a towel, lovingly drying my hair. His voice finally comes through.</p><p> “Hi, I’m sorry you just seem to be in shock and we can’t have you getting a cold when you just got out of the hospital.” </p><p>He brushes my hair off my face. I say nothing looking at him as he grabs a towel and dries off roughly. His pants are still soaked. I make a meek gesture and he gets the hint. He strips down to his boxers, I try desperately not to look at his hard on and drag my eyes to stare at his warm hazel globes, that have comforted me in moments of sheer terror. He leans forward gives me a soft kiss on my forehead. </p><p> “I’m just going to throw our stuff in the dryer, and grab you some dry clothes ok?” He strokes my cheek and I can only nod at him. </p><p>My ankle hurts and I pull the towel a little more around me taking off my sports bra and tossing it towards his back. He turns sees my bare chest and I here a groan before he reaches down and picks it up to throw in with the others. I stare at the blank wall wondering if I’m going to come to my senses and kick him out. If he will do something stupid like call my mother. If he will go home if I even try to tell him to leave. He probably won’t he must have been watching me from the road. I don’t know what should bother me more, the fact that he had me under surveillance or that I didn’t notice it. He comes back wearing a pair of his gym shorts that he had stashed here, probably from when he was secretly staying when I was missing. He has one of his knicks shirts on too, carrying some FBI sweats and a loose looking top. I try to reach for it without dropping the towel that I clutch to my skin. He hands it to me grabs the towel and lifts it up so I can change into it. My nipples are hard from the cold and stick through the thing shirt. He also brought a pair of underwear for me, not granny panties but not any of my lacy clearly for sex stuff either. The fact that he has been through my drawers should bother me too, but knowing we have both packed for one another more than a few times in the short time we have been working together it doesn’t. I struggle and finally get everything on I reach up and touch his hand still gripping the towel tightly as he looks down. I still say nothing he pulls me into a tight hug and I fold a little. </p><p>“I know you are fine, and think everything is going to be fine, and it is, or it will be. But Scully.” </p><p>He takes my hand and we sit side by side on the couch as he turns to face me. He cups my face in that way he does stroking my cheek. I watch his eyes. He looks down towards are hands clasped in one another. </p><p>“I’m not fine Scully, I’m not fine with you being back here, I’m not fine not being with you. I’m worried that every time the phone rings and I don’t answer it immediately I’m going to hear your voice screaming in a message, that I got too late.” </p><p>My lip quivers, I forget sometimes, that while I might be missing the time that I was gone, my missing from my life changed the people around me too.</p><p> “I worry at night that I’m going to wake up and you will still be gone, and I’ll get another call to check and see if the redhead at yet another morgue is you. I’m not fine at all, and if you want to tell me to get lost and repeat to yourself that you are fine, ok. Whatever. Tonight though I needed to see you, I needed to just double check. Ok?” he pauses takes a moment to rub his face. “I uh.. Should get going. Just you know bring back the suit stuff when you come back in a few weeks.” </p><p>He starts to move off the couch and I reach for his arm. Look at him and give him a small smile. </p><p>“I’m not really fine...my ankle hurts. I uh think I pushed myself to hard, there is also nothing to eat here and I’m starving.” I mutter. </p><p>He smiles big this time, like he did when he walked into that hospital room and saw me awake. That smile that has probably melted more than a few girls hearts is melting mine right now. </p><p>“I brought food, your favorite. It’s in the car. I was just going to make up something about work, bring a file you know.” </p><p>“Do you have a file I can look at?” I ask because god knows I need a distraction and working, working with him and challenging my mind like he does is a sure fire way to help distance myself a bit. </p><p>“Yea I well, I brought a box.. I just.. I really fucking missed you.”</p><p>I laugh. “If I could remember anything, I think I would remember missing you too.”  </p><p>He grins. Leans forward again and this time I lean up and press my lips lightly to his. It's over too soon and I already want to kiss him again  </p><p>“Thanks for you know checking on me.” </p><p>He runs his thumb over my cheek. </p><p>“You gonna go get that food and work or what?” </p><p>“Yea, I’m sorry that kiss left me a little stunned is all. I’m going I’m going.” </p><p>“If you got my favorite and a juicy autopsy I might give you another.” </p><p>I shout as he opens my door. He smiles, when he politely knocks to come back in  I laugh. He goes to hand me the extra key. </p><p>“I uh think you should keep it, you know case you aren’t fine.. Or ..whatever.” I whisper.</p><p>He nods and shifts the box from his hip and I finally feel like me again.</p>
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